Hedwig Returns
The tapping on the window made Harry tense as he was preparing for breakfast; at first, he assumed some idiot wizard was sending him some mail, but when he turned with his wand, a nasty curse on the tip of his tongue and faced the window, he saw the owl.
"HEDWIG!?" Harry cried in delight.
The snowy white owl was flapping her wings madly in excitement at the sight of him. Quickly Harry opened the window with a desperate flick of his wand, and the owl flew in. She landed on the table, hooting madly. Harry swept her up and hugged her desperately but gently.
"Oh, it's great to see you too, girl," Harry said.
Hedwig hooted, preening his long white hair. Harry pulled back and studied her closely, and he saw that her immaculate down was just as healthy and well-preened.
Hedwig hooted; Harry saw the concern in her eyes when she took some of his white hair in her beak as he put her on the table, and stroked her feathers gently.
"I've changed a lot, haven't I sweetheart?" Harry ran the fingers of his free hand through the long white locks. "The first time I've ever been exposed to the Dementors without any hope of a reprieve."
Hedwig hooted indignantly. She knew of how strong a reaction her wizard had for those foul things, the fact the wizarding world didn't care spoke volumes about them.
Harry smiled sadly back at her before he held out his arm, and she eagerly jumped on it. He smiled more genuinely when he sensed she was trying to comfort him when he felt the tips of her talons digging slightly into the skin of his arm. "Come on, girl," he said, "I've got some bacon on the pan if you want." The way he felt she could have the lot.
Hedwig hooted excitedly, and Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, eat me out of house and home if you want," he grumbled in a mock angry way, pleased that his owl friend had returned to him safe and sound.
Hedwig gave him an innocent look, but Harry shook his head and he conjured her a nice, perch and he went back to cooking. Harry cooked her some extra bacon, making sure to cook it the way she liked before serving. As he watched the bacon frying and spitting fat and oil in the frying pan, Harry turned to his owl, smiling when he saw the trunk she'd been carrying for the last year religiously sitting on the perch.
"Thanks for keeping it, Hedwig," Harry whispered. "I know you never wanted to put code 101 in operation."
Code 101 was a contingency plan he'd come up with after he'd learnt the truth of what happened to Black and how quickly the magical world was to condemn.
The plan was straightforward enough, if anything was to happen to him then Hedwig was to take his possessions and fly as far from the school and the magical world as she could manage. If anything were to happen to him, Hedwig's own life was more important. But while that was a massive concern, Harry was always determined to keep some of the books he'd stolen or purchased out of the hands of anyone else. He didn't want to make things worse, but at the same time, Code 101 was just a precaution.
At least at first, since he had stupidly assumed that while things could get worse, he still didn't have a great deal of knowledge about magic to make sure he could escape without any major damage. Okay, admittedly Code 101 was merely the stepping stone. Harry had longed to become an animagus but for more interesting purposes than the reasons McGonagall and Black had.
Harry wasn't interested in playing pranks like Black, his dad, and Pettigrew had. And he wasn't interested in maintaining order the way McGonagall was.
He wanted to become a spy.
He wanted to become a thief with his animagus form and gain a token independence he had never had before, but at the same time, he wanted to have a way of sneaking about without drawing any attention to himself. When he had learnt about Black's imprisonment and the truth surrounding the deaths of his parents, Harry had become even more motivated. He'd had a wake-up call; something similar could happen to him, and he had spent months looking into becoming an animagus. He had learnt there were two methods of becoming one, and his father and his backstabbing friends had used a Native American Indian method. Harry had gone through the steps designed to help him discover his animal form, but he hadn't activated it before the final Task in the tournament.
Hedwig hooted in agreement, but Harry turned to her with a smile."
"I know," he said, "I never wanted to put it to start, either. But there's nothing we can do about it now."
The bacon was almost done. Harry waited for a few more minutes before he forked some of the rashers off the pan, and he began cutting it all up and putting it on a plate. Hedwig bounced with excitement as he put the plate down on the perch in front of her. Harry chuckled to himself as Hedwig dove into the bacon and she began eating it.
"Hey, eat it slowly," he chided her playfully.
Hedwig hooted back as if to tell him to piss off, and Harry chuckled and went back to the cooker to begin work. As he began cooking again, Harry checked the journal that he'd gotten from Gringotts. To his delight, he saw the American Potters had responded.
His cry attracted Hedwig's interest; she hooted at him curiously. Harry turned to her and saw her gaze had zeroed in on the journal curiously. Harry held it up.
"This is a protean journal, girl. Joined to a set it can be used to transmit messages. Do you remember my family living in America, the same ones who've tried for years to get custody over me, but have always failed because of Dumbledore and his cronies?"
Hedwig did remember since she had seen Harry's dangerous reaction when he discovered once more the old wizard was meddling in his affairs.
"Well, I've finally got in touch with them, despite years of them sending letter after letter and present after present," Harry's voice was filled with pure loathing and resentment towards Albus Dumbledore for denying him the right to have a family he could call his own, "and not getting them." For a moment Harry was silent as he remembered the day he'd discovered he had family, and they were being kept from him, and how he'd gotten his hands on the first letters from real family, not the ghoulish facsimiles Dumbledore called 'family.'
Suddenly he sagged.
"I'm so tired, Hedwig," he said quietly as he carefully cracked some eggs and chucked the gooey mess into the frying pan before he added more bacon and a couple of sausages. "I'm almost 16 years old but I feel as if I've lived 3 times that number, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder, or running through my life as though I'm afraid of what's in front of me. I went to Hogwarts to get a magical education. Instead, I've been fighting off pathetic Dark Lords, seeing the seedier aspects of the wizarding world. I'm sick of it," he finished solemnly, turning to face his owl, who regarded him with sympathy.
"I should have left the magical world in my second year, Hedwig," Harry fell silent for a moment as he remembered the plan he'd cooked up when the school had turned on after that mess in the Duelling Club - to this day, he was convinced Snape had deliberately given Malfoy the incantation for the snake summoning spell; he just didn't know why, although after his stint in prison where he'd had a lot of time to think, Harry was positive Dumbledore had something to do with it and it led to different ideas about why - with the snake Malfoy conjured. How was he to know about Parseltongue being viewed by everyone as pure evil?
If he had known, he would have just stayed quiet.
But he hadn't; when the school turned on him, and Weasley and Granger had taken to steering away from him, the atmosphere on the Quidditch team had become hostile, and Gryffindor tower had become unbearable, to say nothing about the rest of the castle itself, Harry had been tempted to just walk away from the magical world.
For good.
But….he hadn't. Harry had recently and in secret gotten wind of Weasley and Granger spying on him for Dumbledore, and he'd had to come to terms with the fact he could not trust anybody, so he had looked for ways of learning magic without the two learning about it. His discovery of the Room of Requirement had solved many of his problems; the place was a gold mine of information and many of the books he didn't want to be found by anyone had come from there.
Books on immortality, such as essence transfer had been at the top of the list.
Like Voldemort, Harry had no intention of dying but unlike the unlamented late Dark Lord, Harry was prepared for death. When he was a child, he had come close to dying many times over, and in the end, he had tried to make every moment have meaning. It was a reality no child should face, but he had. When he had learnt of the magical world, a world of possibilities opened up.
Not only did he discover the existence of family in the MACUSA, nor the existence of the family history people like Dumbledore were so seemingly determined to keep from him.
Sadly, finding information hadn't been possible at first. It wasn't until he entered his second year, and encountered the House-elves in the kitchens, that Harry made headway in his search for knowledge. He had found the Room of Requirement, learning quickly how to use it and he'd gathered knowledge on immortality.
Out of all of the methods, only essence transfer was the one that appealed to him; all of the others required blood like a vampire, draining magic from other witches and wizards; they were ghoulish forms of immortality, but essence transfer was the most appealing to him since he only needed to make clones of himself and merely transfer his soul into them so he could live a little longer.
With a clone body, Harry could banish many of the physical issues he'd had because of the Dursley's upbringing, and after the senseless way he'd been imprisoned, Harry wanted to have an ace up his sleeve in case something went wrong. That was why he'd come to this townhouse in particular.
"But, I didn't. There was still so much to learn about the magical world; okay, at the end of the year, it worked out; I'd sold that basilisk's parts and made a nice little fortune. On top of that, I'd started selling bits and pieces thanks to the Room of Requirement. A nice little nest egg so I wouldn't be reliant on the Potter fortune," Harry said. "I believed I would only need to wait until my fifth year when I got my OWLs and I could at last gain my freedom and actually meet my American family without Dumbledore's minions blocking us, but," a bitter laugh bubbled out of his throat, "It didn't work out like that. My plan was stupid from the start. I'd learnt enough about the magical world to know I couldn't leave legally unless I got my OWLs. In my second year, I was close to not caring, but after finding the Room of Requirement, I needed to know everything I could. I've lost a year of my life. If I'd known for a moment being stuck in that fucking school would lead to being imprisoned because that pompous little bastard who's more interested in looking good for his voters. Now, I wish I'd spent a couple of weeks plundering the Room, and then just leaving."
Hedwig hooted somewhat reprovingly.
"I know, it's my own fault, but it's in the past now," Harry replied.
Harry had finished cooking and he put it on a plate and he sat down. Hedwig flew over and she hooted expectantly.
"Oh, come on, give me a break," Harry begged her. "I've only just sat down."
Hedwig hooted.
"Oh, okay, you'll eat me out of house and home," Harry mock grumbled and cut some more bacon. As he ate his meal, Harry mentally sorted through the myriad of tasks he needed to get done. He had to go back into the city and go clothes shopping, he wanted to go to a gym and get physically fitter, and he also wanted to sign up for self-defence classes. He would need to think about which ones, but after learning about judo and karate, he wanted nothing to do with them. He actually wanted to feel like he was doing something, rather than dressing in pyjamas and not making any physical contact. If he had the knowledge of how to fight back, then he wouldn't need to rely on his wands and he could surprise wizards, who didn't have a clue how to fight.
As he was sorting through the tasks in front of him, Harry remembered the protean journal. After making sure Hedwig had enough bacon to keep her busy and sated, he went to where he'd left the journal and he opened it on the first page.
"Dear Harry, we're so glad that we got your protean journal. Fortunately, the goblins in the MACUSA are hyper-efficient and they let us know about it right away. Oh, this is Jasper Potter, by the way, I'm the head of the branch of our family living in the MACUSA. We received your letters, despite Dumbledore's blockade. The fact you found out about it shows that you are definitely extremely sneaky. We tried everything to get you away, but, and I don't mean to be disrespectful and please, don't take this the wrong way, but your parents were fools for trusting Dumbledore, and giving him so many inches that took a hundred miles.."
"No, I think you're absolutely right," Harry murmured as he forked a piece of egg into his mouth, hiding his surprise a wizard was using a muggle expression.
"We're also delighted that you've been freed from Azkaban. We were horrified when we learnt what happened. I was all set to storm the British Ministry, but once more the British, showing they lacked common sense. They refused to listen to reason; I was terrified that Fudge would order the Dementor's kiss and damn the consequences. It's only blind luck Dumbledore prevented the fool from going that far. Harry, how are you, really?
Please get in touch,
Jasper Potter."
Harry re-read the message several times before he finished his breakfast. By then he had already partially composed a reply to send back. He grabbed a pen and he began to write.
"Hello, Uncle Jasper," Harry spoke as he wrote, "This is going to stun you rigid, but you can write whatever you want about my parents. As you know I feel little but contempt for them; ever since I learnt Voldemort was after them, I wondered why they didn't just run away and travel the MACUSA and hide. If they hadn't, I would never have lived with abusive muggles and I picked up on how to become sneaky to survive. As for how I feel….," Harry took a deep breath as he fought the urge to rush to the Ministry and murder Fudge, or at least humiliate him so badly he could never walk again, "I've lost an entire year of my life because the wizarding world refuses to use its resources to discover the truth. Not that it would have helped one little bit. Dumbledore, for all his talk about second chances, would have seen my imprisonment as a benefit. He probably assumed if he freed me then I'd see him as a saviour. It doesn't surprise me at all about what you wrote about Fudge. The Minister always preferred choosing the easiest solutions to his problems and then ignoring the consequences."
Xxxxx
After he had finished with the Protean journal, Harry had gone out into the muggle world again. He went to a few clothing and shoe shops and he bought some new shoes, trainers, slippers and boots, all the time he had ignored the looks he was getting as more and more people began to realise he was a teenager, not an old man. He also went to a local gym and he set up a membership. He also began looking into different forms of martial arts, and he asked a few people at the gym what was better for his own personal needs.
Mixed Martial Arts and Muay Thai were among the best, but he also had an interest in fencing; he had needed to use the sword of Godric Gryffindor to defeat the basilisk, and when he heard of the benefits of fencing, he became hooked. He signed up for a few classes on all three, deciding to try out a few of them before deciding whether he should go through with them or not.
But at the same time, he passed a few holiday shops. He had planned on getting out of Britain and he thought it would be good for him until he had to go back to Hogwarts.
Once he got back to the townhouse, loaded down with bags, Harry found a few letters waiting for him. Under Hedwig's narrow scrutiny, he read the first letter. It was from the Ministry. It was an overblown letter straight from Fudge's office, but as he read the letter, shaking his head at the unnecessarily long-winded sentences, the general gist was clear; he had been officially freed, so he could largely do whatever he wished.
Harry didn't understand why Fudge would see the need to send this; he had already sent that scroll with Dumbledore when he'd met the old wizard at Gringotts. And then he understood; that scroll had been cross-written by Fudge and Bones, but this was a letter from the Minister's office.
There was even a nice compensation fee added. He would have the money transferred to a muggle bank account, and he decided to give it to charity. There was no chance he was going to use it since it was essentially blood money.
And yet….
A slow smirk grew over Harry's face as he considered what he could do with the cash. There was no doubt in his head that the Dursleys likely knew about him being thrown into prison. Knowing them they'd have been overjoyed. Harry doubted they'd know he was freed since Dumbledore knew he wouldn't go back to them, but he didn't know for sure. He didn't care either. But maybe...if he arranged for the compensation money to be used as part of a donation. A big one, and if he could find a way of making sure the Dursleys and those other idiots in Little Whinging head a nice little sob story, then that would be the best revenge.
Voldemort would have gone after the Dursleys; he had gone after his own muggle relatives, admitting it during his resurrection, and slaughtered them. But Harry knew the best revenge was to humiliate and if he could show them up, then it would be the best punishment ever.
Harry turned his attention to the other letters. The first was a standard Gringotts letter, letting him know of the transfer. But there was a letter from the Potter family manager, telling him that the American branch of Gringotts had submitted the protean journal, but it would take another couple of days before they got the enchanted mirror and he would receive one, too. Harry planned to visit Gringotts at some point and see if they could arrange for a passport for him so he could come and go.
There was a letter from Hogwarts, it was from McGonagall. It was an official apology - something Fudge's office had so thoughtfully decided not to grant him - for his expulsion and a neutral statement saying he had been restored as a student in the next term. There was also a note saying he would be resorted to a different House. Harry noted how upset the wording was about that; before the letter was perfectly neutral, but that part showed the woman was upset. His heart bled for them, he knew McGonagall was only upset the hero of the wizarding world was not a Gryffindor and it would not reflect wonderfully on that stupid house.
Harry put the letter down and he began looking through the others. He quickly found a letter from Granger. The writing was shaky. She had been sobbing and the tears had leaked onto the paper. It was a desperate letter of apology, but Harry refused to reply to it. In fact, as he read through every single word, having to reread them as the letter was so atrociously written, Harry saw Granger had given him a long, overblown story of how the last year had been and how she wished she had a time turner and could change the past so she would never have become a spy and poked her nose into his business and told others what he was doing, and that she hoped they could find a way past that.
Harry threw the letter away in disgust. Did she really have such a naive view of the world? Did she truly think for one moment acknowledging she had made a mistake, that she had never known he was being abused would solve everything? To his disgust, she asked a few questions about the Cupboard under the Stairs, but in his mind, if she had to ask them, then she wasn't as smart as she thought; he had shown those memories to everyone, surely she was observant enough to guess how bad it was?